The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 134: Uninvited Guest - 1

“Don’t cut in line!”

“Think I’ll be able to buy it today?”

“Yesterday I came late, and it was already sold out.”

A novel featured even in the regional bulletin. A Colorful Chivalry story officially endorsed by the Literary Circle. Naturally, people lined up outside Daseogak’s first floor every day just to get a copy.

And the second floor? It had become a hotspot for venting all that pent-up Storm of the Tang Clan fandom—always packed to the brim.

“I admit Du Eung-hyang was a pure woman. But it’s also true she’s sold her smile to many men throughout her life. Meanwhile, Gu Suk-jeong has smiled only for Tang Jeong, her true love. Doesn’t that make her the real main wife?”

These days, the most passionate participant in Daseohoe’s gatherings was none other than Scholar Hwang’s younger brother. You’d never guess he was the same man who once scoffed at Storm of the Tang Clan.

The newest member of Daseohoe, Scholar Hwang’s younger brother argued passionately with a supporter of Hubei’s Top Courtesan, laying out his logic with fervor.

“Guh...”

One of the Hyang-ah faction men flinched at his words, clearly struck in a weak spot.

“That’s why I’m saying—leave behind the woman who sold her smile to others, and return to the arms of the one who smiled only for you.”

Smiling, he subtly slid a Suk-jeong Tea Set across the table toward the man.

“Are you wavering?”

Scholar Hwang, watching from the side, asked in surprise.

“I... I’m wavering a little.”

“Are you seriously being swayed by the sophistry of this newbie? Listen closely. Did Tang Jeong fall for Du Eung-hyang just because she smiled at him and poured his wine?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Tang Jeong wasn’t seduced by her looks. Du Eung-hyang, too—she fell for him not because of his appearance, but because he understood her true self.”

“That’s right.”

“Calling someone the main wife just because of a smile? The Sichuan Flower faction is full of shallow types who only look skin-deep. We of the Hyang-ah Faction value inner beauty. We are the true believers in real, meaningful love.”

“I... I almost lost my way.”

Clutching his chest, the man looked as if he’d just experienced a great awakening.

“Brother! That’s too much! Are you really saying the Most Beautiful Woman in Sichuan has less depth than a mere courtesan?”

“Of course I am.”

“Even if you’re my brother, I can’t tolerate that!”

“You want to fight me? Seems I didn’t raise you right after all!”

“Ahem.”

I cleared my throat, drawing attention from the bickering crowd. Then, I pointed at the door.

“The shopkeeper says if you argue one more time, you’re out. So let’s keep it down.”

“I almost had him convinced...”

“We Hyang-ahs don’t fall over that easily.”

“No matter how much you try to stop people, Brother, the tide’s already turning. Just look at the board.”

Scholar Hwang’s younger brother pointed toward the popularity vote board. I followed his gesture to the source of all this recent turmoil.

It was a problem.

Was it because Du Eung-hyang had Joseon blood? Or because she was a courtesan? Either way, Gu Suk-jeong—Sichuan’s Most Beautiful Woman—was clearly in the lead, not by a landslide, but enough to be noticeable.

“I haven’t given up yet. Just as Tang Jeong never gave up, I won’t give up on Du Eung-hyang.”

Yes. Please. Don’t give up.

“Ugh, so Du Eung-hyang’s losing after all? Screw it. I’m broke anyway—guess I’ll just grab an iced Americano instead of a Hyang-ah Coffee. Shopkeeper! One iced Americano, please!”

Scholar Hwang’s dedication was admirable, but yeah... we had a problem.

If the vote gap got too wide, it lost marketing value. Once people thought it was impossible to catch up, they gave up.

And lately, more and more Daseohoe members were reacting that way.

Should I try a different approach? Maybe make the daily results visible but keep the total count hidden with blind voting. That way, people wouldn’t know how wide the gap was and would keep spending. But... word of the gap had already spread.

I could run it like a school trip event: “Today’s special set votes count double!” I could even yell it out like a recreational instructor. ...But was that too evil?

While I was agonizing, an unexpected guest arrived.

“So this is the famous Daseogak I’ve heard so much about. Nicely decorated.”

An old man entered, leading a small group.

Wait—wasn’t that...?

“Chairman, sir! What brings you here?”

The visitor was the Chairman of the Yichang Merchants’ Association—the same man who’d helped during the pirated edition crisis.

“Just passing by and thought I’d drop in. A popularity vote, huh? That’s a tactic old men like me wouldn’t even dream of.”

He glanced at the vote board and smiled at me.

“It’s just a small method to gauge readers’ reactions.”

Tactic? No way—it was merely a fun little supplement to help readers engage in the Main Wife War.

“Heh. You really are an interesting young man. With your words, your hands, and your mind, you keep stirring things up in Yichang.”

The Chairman knew who I was.

I’d had to reveal my identity to him to secure his support during the piracy incident—if I hadn’t told him I was ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) Ho-pil, I wouldn’t have gotten his help.

“I’m honored you think so highly of me, even if it’s more than I deserve.”

I bowed respectfully, and he gave a satisfied nod, turning back toward the vote board.

“Tsk tsk. How can Hubei’s Top Courtesan be trailing behind the Most Beautiful Woman in Sichuan?”

“Haha... I feel the same way.”

If the gap kept growing, the popularity vote would fizzle out.

Just as I was thinking that, the Chairman said something unexpected.

“I’ll buy 1,000 sets.”

“...Excuse me?”

“You hard of hearing, son? I said I’ll order 1,000 Hyang-ah Coffee Sets.”

He pointed at the coffee, clearly intent on ending this popularity vote right here and now.

“The Chairman was part of the Hyang-ah Faction all along?!”

“Ooooooh! At this rate, we’re gonna win by a landslide!”

“Daseogak just struck gold today!”

1,000 sets.

If I accepted, the voting race would no longer be an issue. I could record those votes slowly and make the race look neck-and-neck.

And the revenue from 1,000 sets? Enough to close early for the day. I could take Hwa-rin out for a great meal and enjoy a well-earned break.

But—

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll have to decline that order.”

I rejected the Chairman’s offer without hesitation.

“Why?”

He asked with a puzzled expression.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"Ho-pil wants to see the reactions of many readers, not have things skewed by a single person."

"I heard there were people placing bulk orders though?"

"That's just people buying a few drinks a day or covering for others. Ho-pil wouldn’t want the vote to end like this."

"Ho-pil might feel that way. But what about you, Manager Kang?"

The Chairman prodded, as if testing me—not as a writer, but as a merchant. Why would I, the businessman, turn down such an order?

“I feel the same.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I made a promise that this vote would reflect the voices of the many. It may seem like a marketing trick, but as a merchant, I believe breaking that trust would be wrong.”

Though that’s what I said, it’s not like I believe a merchant must always be a paragon of honesty, never using sly tricks. After all, I’m the one running a gold-for-votes scheme.

But there are lines that shouldn’t be crossed for the sake of profit.

Especially when it’s a trick everyone can see—something done out in the open. When the eyes of the people are watching.

“Even if it means giving up a massive profit?”

“The moment I betray that trust, I stop being a merchant and become a cheat or a swindler. I want to make a fortune with honor—not with deception.”

I’m not some wandering barbarian with nothing to lose. I’m the manager of Daseogak now.

The Special Set was introduced to let readers support their favorite heroine. There’s no need to earn money by inviting public scorn.

“Many keep their honor, yet few get rich. Isn’t letting this go a loss?”

“That’s only because they don’t know how to walk ahead.”

“Don’t know how to walk ahead?”

“Fortune smiles on those who walk untrodden paths without fear. And I’m confident I can lead the way.”

I’d already tasted my first success. And the second, and the third—I'd achieve those too. Whether as Ho-pil the writer, or Kang Yun-ho the bookstore manager—my path would go on.

Even if I used shallow tactics, I wouldn’t do anything to shatter my reputation.

“Hahahaha! Truly! A rare young man these days!”

The Chairman looked at me with a proud smile.

“I’m just sorry I had to decline your generous offer.”

“Think nothing of it. I saved some money, anyway. Oh—by the way, I’m heading to Wuchang today.”

Why mention a travel plan all of a sudden?

“That’s quite far.”

“I’m meeting Elder Jang of the Ten-Thousand Gold Merchant Guild. Looks like I’ll be bringing along a very interesting story bundle.”

“Please speak well of Daseogak while you’re there.”

Elder Jang is one of Daseogak’s largest creditors. We’re doing a good job, sir—please don’t send the debt collectors!

“I will. And if I can’t drink all those thousand cups myself, I’ll tell my employees to order them regularly instead. That’s alright with you, yes?”

“Always welcome.”

“Good, then. I’ll be on my way. Keep up the good work.”

“Safe travels, sir.”

I called Hwa-rin over from the printing room to help see the Chairman off. As he left, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge in my chest—thinking about the 1,000-set profit I just turned down.

After the Chairman’s departure, the popularity vote caught fire again thanks to steady orders from his employees.

“Only 200 votes apart!”

“We’re down to 100!”

“Noooo! Why’d it jump back up to 130?!”

“Today we’re at 80!”

Thanks to that, we could probably keep selling Special Sets all the way through the launch of Volume 3.

---------

“Let’s have another great day of sales!”

Revenue climbing vertically every day. If this keeps up, both my Fame Points and Hwa-rin’s debt will be settled in no time.

Daseogak was on a roll.

“If only things could stay like this forever.”

If only no one came along to ruin the vibe—if only the good days just kept coming. But of course, that kind of thought... was asking for trouble.

Because someone I never wanted to see showed up.

“This. Who wrote it?”

A man shoved a copy of Storm of the Tang Clan toward me, demanding to know who the author was.

Purple hair—plain as day. The exact same color as Tang Hwa-rin’s.

The man standing in front of me with a hardened expression was someone from the Sichuan Tang Clan.